Danse Macabre
by Wicked Sapphira
Summary: A few years after the Final Battle, Ginny does something foolish, and gets hit with a horrible curse. As a result, she starts having strange dreams about Tom Riddle. Meanwhile, a plot to bring Voldemort back is in motion, but can Harry and Ginny stop it?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **I have revised this story, as of July 29, 2010. Nothing much has changed, but there were a few (well, more than a few) things that I wanted to correct. I have done this with all of the chapters, and you will see that they have (hopefully) improved. As for an actual update, I am working on it. I know that it's been almost a year since I have updated this story for real, and I know that it's inexcusable, but I have been working on my other stories instead. I just want to finish a chapter for another one of my stories, and then I was planning to start writing Chapter 6 of Danse Macabre Thank you so much for reading!

**Prologue**

Ginny sprinted down a massive hallway and raced down a few flights of a steep staircase made of stone as if her life depended upon it, which it did. She was running from _him_, and she did not need to look back to know that he was chasing her, because the heavy thudding sound of his footfalls trailing close behind her bounced off of the cold, gray stone walls, sounding like she was being pursued by several people.

She just could not believe that she had gotten herself into such a big mess.

'_Way to go, Ginny. Just bloody fantastic! While I'm at it I might as well raise the basilisk from the dead and open the Chamber of Secrets again,'_ Ginny thought sarcastically.

She jerked unpleasantly out of her reverie when her right foot shot out from underneath her as she descended another flight of stairs. Ginny tried-and failed-to grab the handrail to steady her in time while emitting a small shriek of surprise, and tumbled down the stairs.

She landed with a sickening crunch and pain immediately shot up her left arm. Fortunately, she was on the fourth or fifth stair from the bottom when she tripped, but she had broken her left wrist, which is never a good thing, especially when being pursued by someone who wishes you bodily harm.

Ginny groaned in pain and swore under her breath. She knew she didn't have the time or the luxury to fix the broken wrist, so Ginny swiftly gathered her Gryffindor courage and made to get to her feet.

Before she could accomplish this completely, however, a foot descended upon her chest, forcing her back to the ground and making her head connect with the hard, stone floor rather painfully. After Ginny had gotten over the shock of being forced suddenly to the ground, she found that the owner of the foot currently pressing down on her chest had their wand jabbed into her neck.

"You know that you cannot run from me, Ginevra. I do not have any idea why you even tried since you should be aware that it is futile to try to escape me. You were very lucky that The Boy Who Won't Die was there to save you in the Chamber of Secrets. There is not anyone here to rescue you now, Ginevra, not even the _famous_ Harry Potter," he taunted venomously with his silky, cold, baritone voice.

Ginny shuddered every time he called her 'Ginevra'. She remembered when she loved that he was the only one who called her that (except for her mother, but that was when she was cross), and how the syllables rolled off his tongue like he was caressing them with his seemingly beautiful but still cold voice. After she found out who he really was and what he was really like, she despised it when he said her name, although it secretly thrilled her when he said it. When she was eleven, it had made her feel adult and sophisticated, and now that she was, in fact, an adult, that never ceased, although it made her feel seductive, in addition to everything else.

"You have absolutely no right to mock my fiancé like that, especially after he has beaten you numerous times. You also don't have the right to call me Ginevra; that was a privilege that you lost years ago, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Ginny declared bravely, trying not wince as he pressed his wand further into her neck as she said this.

Ginny, who had been avoiding his gaze until that point, finally looked up to meet it. To say that Riddle was angry was the understatement of the century. His face would have been extraordinarily handsome had it not been for his facial expression, which was one of extreme loathing and contempt. His already thin lips were pressed into an even thinner line, and his eyes, which were usually dark, expressionless orbs, were livid and a smoldering deep scarlet when she made eye contact with him.

"Foolish girl!" he spat. "I don't give a damn whether I have the right to call you something or not, besides, how dare you order me about! I am Lord Voldemort, and no one ever tells me what to do!"

"For your information, Riddle, I am not a scared, naïve eleven-year-old girl, who you can manipulate and take advantage of anymore no more than I am one of your disgusting followers, who will grovel at your feet and kiss the hem of your robes! And if you expect me to lie down and let you walk all over me, then you are sorely mistaken," Ginny retorted just as venomously

His face contorted even more with rage, if that were possible, and he screeched, "_Crucio_!"

Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs, her blood-curdling screams echoed and resounded in the room; she had never experienced pain to this magnitude before. She felt like a thousand white-hot knives were stabbing her all over her body simultaneously. She wanted it all to end. She wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't. She felt that death could not come soon enough, and that anything was better than the agony that she was currently feeling. After what seemed like hours to Ginny, but in reality, was only a couple of minutes, Riddle removed the Cruciatus Curse.

She lay there shaking uncontrollably and panting. Her throat felt raw and sore, and, to her utmost horror, she had tears streaming down her face. She hastily wiped the tears away with the back of her right hand and she really hoped that he had not noticed that she had been crying.

She looked up at him again to see if he had noticed. She didn't see anything in his face that made her think he saw her moment of weakness, but she was sure that he had seen it, and was fully expecting him to mock or taunt her about it. Much to her surprise, he did not taunt her about it. She searched his handsome features again to see if she could predict what he was going to do or say next.

The expression on his face led her to believe that he was still furious, but his eyes made her think a little bit differently. Ginny could have sworn she saw a flicker of an unidentifiable emotion in them that seemed almost like pity, but alas, it was gone as quickly as it had come, and his eyes were back to being cold, calculating, and emotionless.

"Are going to behave yourself, or am I going to have to torture you again? Believe you me, that was just a mere taste of the Cruciatus Curse, and I will make last a lot longer than it did last time," Riddle said dangerously.

Although Ginny knew that it was a rhetorical question, she answered it anyway just so that she would get the last word.

"Of course I don't want you to torture me. Do you think that I am a masochist or something? I still stand by what I said before: I will not bow down to you or your will," Ginny responded.

"Hmm… I see. You truly are a Gryffindor through and through: bravery, chivalry, stupidity, and hotheadedness… need I go on?" Riddle mocked, slight amusement glinting in his eyes.

'Merlin, his mood swings are worse than a pubescent teenage girl's with PMS! First, he is beyond angry, the next minute he seems to almost pity me, and the next minute after that, he is amused! Wait a minute-did I just say that Voldemort pities me? I really am going insane. Well… not quite as insane as him, though, I don't think anyone could be that off their rocker, not even Bellatrix Lestrange,' Ginny thought to herself snidely.

"Enough, Ginevra," Tom Riddle said after he had pulled himself from her mind. "I can see that you have not learned your lesson yet, based on your thoughts."

Ginny gasped in horror at this; she had forgotten that he was a master Legilimens and she was mentally hitting herself over the head with a frying pan for her stupidity.

"Crucio," Riddle screamed yet again.

Ginny forced herself not to scream so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her being weak, but she broke and started screaming at the top of her lungs eventually. After a while, Ginny's mind became foggy and she eventually succumbed to the inky depths as she sank into oblivion.

A/N: I'm sorry if this didn't make any sense. Either the prologue is set in the middle of the story or towards the end; I am not sure which yet. If any of this does not make sense, it will be explained later in the story. Please review. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I will try to get the next chapter up A.S.A.P.


	2. Chapter 1: Curiousity Killed The Cat

**Disclaimer: Everything but the plot is J.K. Rowling's. If I really were J.K. Rowling, why would I be writing fan fiction?**

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry for the long update, but you know how life gets in the way. I wasn't able to use the computer at my mom's house for a week, and Microsoft Word doesn't work on the computer at my dad's. I was at my dad's house for about a week, so I couldn't write. I'm an idiot! I just realized that I spelled Ginny's name Ginerva instead of Ginevra. I will fix that in the last chapter as soon as I get this up. I would like to thank those of you who have added this to your alerts and favorites. I am so flattered! However, I have not received any reviews yet and I would love it if someone reviewed. Please, please tell me what you think. It will help me out greatly. Oh, and so no one gets confused, this chapter takes place before the prologue. Well, back to the story…!

**Chapter 1: Curiosity Killed the Cat**

The early morning rays of sunlight streamed through the window of Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter's bedroom, and hit the couple that was sleeping soundly in their bed. Ginny eventually began to stir as the sun rose higher in the sky, and she cracked one eye open, only to find a mass of untidy jet-black hair right in front of her face.

'Harry…,' Ginny thought sleepily.

She sat up and stared lovingly at the peaceful face of the slumbering Harry Potter. Ginny toyed with the gorgeous diamond engagement ring on her left hand while she did this. Ever since she was eleven-years-old, Ginny fantasized about being engaged and eventually being married to Harry Potter. She often fantasized about what her wedding would look like, and even what she would name her children, but she never thought in a million years that it would ever happen.

Harry had proposed to her the night before in a very expensive, high-end, hoity-toity muggle restaurant. It wasn't exactly as romantic as it was in her childhood fantasies, but it was probably as romantic as Harry could get.

Ginny then got out of the bed very carefully, lest she disturb Harry. She headed for the bathroom, took a quick shower, got dressed, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for Harry and her.

Just as she finished setting the table, Harry came lumbering into the kitchen somewhat groggily. He walked up to his fiancé, placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then muttered, "Good morning" after said kiss.

"Well, good morning to you too," Ginny replied. "Breakfast is almost ready and I made coffee if you would like some."

"Thank you. I think that I'll have a cup," Harry said, and then promptly poured himself some coffee.

Ginny, who had finished cooking, put some eggs, a few strips of bacon, and a couple of pieces of toast on each of the two plates that she had grabbed from the cupboard earlier.

She set one plate down in front of Harry, who was sipping his coffee and reading that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. She then sat down across from him and picked up piece of toast, which she buttered and slathered some marmalade on it.

"I was thinking about going to Diagon Alley to do some shopping today. I think that I need some new robes, and we need owl treats for Athena. I also need to go by the apothecary to pick up some potion ingredients," Ginny said while munching on her toast.

Athena was Harry's new owl, who he shared with Ginny. He had gotten Athena a few months ago; he had felt that he wasn't ready to replace Hedwig before, but Harry had eventually realized that he needed another owl.

"Okay. That sounds good. I think that you should probably go to Gringotts first, though, since we are slightly low on pocket money right now. I would go with you, but I have to work," Harry responded a little wistfully.

Harry was a full-time Auror at the Ministry of Magic, and Ginny was an Obliviator, but she had the day off. Hermione Granger had become an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and her brother, Ron, worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"So is there anything interesting in there?" she asked, gesturing to the Daily Prophet.

"Not really, but that cow Rita Skeeter is still writing for it. Today's article is about Gwenog Jones' 'relationship' with Viktor Krum," Harry replied with obvious disgust.

After that, they both ate in relative silence. When they both were finished eating, Ginny set the plates in the sink and charmed them to wash themselves.

"Well, I have go to work now," Harry said as he fastened his cloak.

"I'll see you when you get back then. I love you," Ginny said.

"I love you too, Ginny. Please be careful while your shopping; it's the ideal time for someone to attack you. Remember: constant vigilance," Harry warned.

"Merlin, you're starting to sound like Mad-Eye. I'll be fine," Ginny replied, slightly annoyed by Harry's paranoia.

"Ginny, I don't know what I would do if I were to lose you. Even though all of the Death Eaters are either dead or in Azkaban, there are still people who would harm you. Promise me that you'll be on your guard, if not for my sake or yours, then for your family's," Harry pleaded fiercely.

"Alright, alright. I will be careful," Ginny promised.

"Well, bye," Harry said, bending down to kiss Ginny goodbye.

When the kiss had ended, Ginny responded slightly out of breath, "Goodbye, Harry."

With that, Harry turned and strode out the door, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake. Ginny decided to leave as well, so she walked over to the fireplace, grabbed some Floo powder, and threw it into the fire. She then stood in the emerald flames and said clearly and firmly, "The Leaky Cauldron."

Ginny felt the usual spinning sensation that was usually associated with traveling by Floo powder. She had her eyes shut tightly, even though she was definitely used to traveling this way. A few seconds later, the spinning sensation ceased and she made contact with solid ground again. Ginny got up and brushed off the soot on her robes.

She greeted Tom, the barman, and made her way to the brick wall that served as the entrance to Diagon Alley. Ginny found the right brick, and tapped it with her wand thrice.

Automatically, the brick began to wriggle, and soon all of the bricks wriggled out of the way to form an archway. She stepped into Diagon Alley quickly before the entrance could seal itself back up again.

Ginny visited Gringotts first, just as Harry had suggested she should do. A goblin named Eldric led her through the dark and seemingly endless tunnels and passageways in a cart until they reached Harry's vault. When they reached the vault, Eldric opened it with the key that she had previously given to him. Ginny put money into the bag that she had brought until she thought she had enough. The goblin closed the vault, handed the key back to Ginny, and led them back to the lobby of the bank.

After Ginny had left Gringotts, she decided to go by Madame Malkin's to purchase some new robes. About an hour later, she came out of the store with three new sets of robes and two new dresses.

She then went to Eeylop's Owl Emporium and bought some owl treats. Next, she went to the Apothecary and purchased some potion ingredients for miscellaneous potions that she happened to be out of (like the Headache Potion).

When she had finished shopping for everything that she needed to get, she discovered that she had some time to kill, so she headed in the direction of Flourish and Blotts to mill around and browse.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she spotted a head of familiar platinum blonde hair in the crowd. Draco Malfoy was walking rather quickly (or as quickly as one could when one was in a crowd) and suspiciously, so Ginny followed him, breaking her promise to Harry. As difficult as it was to maneuver through a horde of witches and wizards, Ginny never lost sight of him because of his trademark Malfoy hair, which happened to stick out like a sore thumb.

It did not take her long to realize that he was heading in the direction of Knockturn Alley, and sure enough, he turned into the way that led to it. Ginny swiftly shrunk all of her shopping bags and placed them in the pockets of her robes. She looked around to see if anyone was watching her, and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself since she didn't think to bring Harry's Invisibility Cloak with her. Then she ran after Malfoy.

She had a hard time finding him, but she found him after a few minutes of searching. Ginny was very careful to keep her distance lest she alert him of her presence; it would be catastrophic if she was found out. After about ten minutes of walking, Malfoy walked into a bar named The Basilisk's Fang, and Ginny followed him in before the door could close.

'_This place is highly reminiscent of the Hog's Head. I wonder if another relative of Dumbledore's owns this- a long-lost cousin, perhaps_,' Ginny thought when she observed the dusty tables and grimy floor.

Malfoy strode up to the bar, and managed to get the bartender's attention. The bartender was a rather rotund man with ebony hair, slicked back with grease. He also had a black handlebar mustache that was peppered with gray, and was wearing a gigantic apron, that probably used to be white, but was now gray and had a collection of stains of various colors, shapes, and sizes. To Ginny, the man was just downright repulsive and looked like he had an unpleasant personality.

"What do yeh wanna drink?" the bartender asked Malfoy in a wheezy, nasally voice.

"Nothing from this dump, thank you very much. I am here on official business, if you catch my drift," Malfoy stated arrogantly, hinting darkly at something.

"Through the door on the right in back," the bartender said quietly, clearly affronted by Malfoy's rude demeanor.

"And yeh be'er knock if yeh knows what's best fer yeh," the bartender added curtly.

"Thanks for the advice," Malfoy said sarcastically, and then walked to the only door on the other side of the Basilisk's Fang.

He opened the door and it revealed a short hallway with three other doors in it, one at the end, one to the left, and one to the right. Malfoy walked up to the door on the right and knocked hesitantly, if not a little nervously.

A deep male voice thundered, "Who dares disturb my work?"

"It is I, Draco Malfoy. I've a favor to ask of you," Malfoy declared with false bravado.

"Pray tell, why I should oblige?" the mysterious voice asked imperiously.

"Because I just might have something that should be of great interest to you."

"Oh, fine, boy. C'mon in before I change my mind," the voice relented.

Malfoy opened the door swiftly, stepped in the room, and shut the door just as quickly, almost too fast for Ginny to slip inside. Almost. The room was relatively big compared to what Ginny had been expecting, but it was still small if one thought about it. It was an office with a tiny window on the opposite wall from the door, and a roaring fire in the surprisingly spacious stone fireplace. Ginny would have found the office to be comfortable if it were not for the figure sitting in a chair in front of a desk in the center of the room and all of the Dark Arts items and books on display around the room.

The man had clearly been involved in whatever he had been doing before Malfoy arrived, because he was hunched over a large amount of paperwork that was scattered helter-skelter on his desk. He was middle-aged and thin with short dark brown hair and an intimidating, commanding air that obviously demanded respect.

"Sit," he ordered Malfoy, indicating to the empty armchair opposite of him with a dismissive wave of his hand, without looking up from his work.

Malfoy hastily obeyed the intimidating older man. After a minute or two, the man looked up and studied Malfoy with keen, intelligent, stormy, gray eyes.

"Well, what is it? I am clearly a very busy man, and I don't like to be bothered, so you had better have a very good reason for bothering me," he said in an annoyed tone.

"I do, sir. I think that I have found a way to resurrect the Dark Lord," Malfoy states anxiously.

The man, who had previously been twiddling his thumbs with a bored expression on his face, stared at Draco Malfoy with wide, shocked eyes. Ginny tried to stifle a gasp, but did not succeed. She did not dare to breathe; for fear that she had been heard, but the two men had not heard her, fortunately.

"H-how? I thought he was gone forever," the man said, when he could speak again.

"Through this," Malfoy said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a gold necklace with a huge red ruby in the center.

"Merlin, the Amulet of Akhman-Ra! How in the hell did you get it? It is supposed to be impossible to obtain since it has been missing for two-thousand years!" the man exclaimed.

"With all due respect, you should probably calm down before I divulge anymore, because it is quite a lot to absorb at one time, Thierry," Malfoy said.

"Yes, yes. You are quite right, lad," Thierry said a little more calmly, shaking his head.

"It took a while to track down; after all, I only had books and old myths and legends to go by. But after a couple grueling years of tedious research and traveling, I knew where it was: in a pyramid in Egypt. I traveled to Egypt and broke into the pyramid. I also stole the infamous Book of the Dead right under a muggle archeologist's nose," Draco said proudly.

"Where are you going to hide this? Surely, you are not going to leave it lying around your house for some Mudblood- loving Ministry fool to find the next time they decide to raid your house?" Thierry asked Malfoy.

"No, actually. I was wondering if you would be kind enough to keep it safe for me, and if you would assist me with the resurrection ceremony since it requires two people to summon and control that much Dark magic," replied Malfoy.

"I will hide the Amulet, but I am not sure if I want to participate in the ceremony just yet. You are definitely going to need to wait until Samhain, or Halloween, when the veil between the two worlds is the thinnest, to successfully resurrect the Dark Lord. You are also going to need a human sacrifice. Who are you planning on sacrificing?" Thierry said.

"Oh, just a random Muggle who won't be missed," Malfoy said nonchalantly, and then smirked at his own sick little joke, at which Thierry chuckled darkly.

Ginny felt sick to her stomach. They were going to raise Voldemort from the dead, and they were going to kill a poor, defenseless, ignorant Muggle to do it. She had to do something to stop them, but what? Taking matters into her own hands was too dangerous, so she would just warn Harry since he was an Auror.

After a while, Thierry said thoughtfully, "I think that I will assist you. Although you have proven yourself adept at the Dark Arts, you will need someone with more experience than yourself. However, I need you to leave now so I can resume working," Thierry said.

With that, Malfoy rose from his chair, and strode out the door without another word, not even to thank Thierry for his time and assistance.

Ginny followed him out onto the street, her head spinning. She had always detested Draco Malfoy, but she never thought that he was truly evil. Ginny also didn't understand why he would want Voldemort to rise again, because she had been sure that Malfoy never wanted to be a Death Eater, although he was forced to be one during her fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts.

Ginny was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she wasn't paying any attention to how much noise she was making by walking and the fact that the subject of her thoughts had stopped walking, so she was nearer to him than she had originally intended to be. She also didn't notice that he had led them to a dark, secluded alley, which was right off of Knockturn Alley, until it was too late.

Suddenly, Malfoy whipped around and aimed his wand in the general direction of where Ginny happened to be.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he cried.

Ginny went as rigid as a board and promptly fell onto her back with a surprisingly loud _thump. _Malfoy walked over to where Ginny was and made her become visible again with a simple flick of his wand.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Weaslette. Long time, no see," he said, an irksome, Slytherin-like smirk plastered on his aristocratic face.

He reached into her robes and withdrew her wand, and then he unfroze her and tied her up with a simple 'Incarcerous'.

"You obviously won't need this," he said, waving her wand mockingly.

"Now, why were you following me?" he continued.

"Why do you think, you bastard?" Ginny cried rhetorically and defiantly.

"Language, Weaslette. I'm warning you: if you do not cooperate, I will not hesitate to torture you. Is that clear?" Malfoy warned.

"Crystal."

"Good. How much did you hear?" he asked, his wand pointed at her chest.

"Everything. You will not get away with it. Someone will stop you," she answered bravely.

"Who? Saint I-Am-So-Special-Because-I-Saved-The-World- Potter? Ha! Like that's likely. How are you planning on warning him when you can't even move?" Malfoy asked Ginny rhetorically. "Also, I am already getting away with it, in case that has escaped your notice."

"Why do you want to bring Voldemort back? I thought you hated being a Death Eater," Ginny asked.

"You are right. I used to despise it, but I realized that it would be preferable to everyone fawning over Potter, and people whispering and staring every time I go out in public, because they think that I am going to kill them at any second. Things like that irk me greatly. So, I figured with the Dark Lord back he would kill Potter and eradicate all of the Muggles, Mudbloods, and blood-traitors," Malfoy said.

"You are such an evil, bigoted, git, Malfoy! You truly are! You hypocritical son of a-"

"Crucio!" he cried.

Ginny writhed in agony on the ground as she screamed at the top of her lungs. He lifted the curse after a moment. Ginny lay shuddering on the ground, her throat raw.

"What did I tell you about language?"

"Coward! Will you hex me only if I'm wandless and tied up? What, are you so afraid that you'll lose to a girl, a blood-traitor at that, if we actually duel?" Ginny said with as much force as she could muster.

"Apparently, the Cruciatus Curse isn't enough. I guess I'll have to try something a little more drastic," Malfoy stated in an almost academic fashion, ignoring Ginny.

He then chanted something in a foreign language, and Ginny's vision started to blur. After Malfoy had chanted the curse, it felt like every bone in her body was breaking, and she was covered in her own blood. Ginny could only see black blurry shapes now.

Malfoy chanted another dark curse in the same language, and everything went black.

**Author's Note: **Please tell me if you love it or hate it. Is anyone OCC? I really am sorry that it took a whole month, so I wrote an extra-long chapter to make up for the long wait. The last curse Malfoy cast will be explained later on in the story. Also, Tom will be in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 2: Odd Ballrooms, Confrontations

**Disclaimer:**Do I look like J.K Rowling to you? She owns it all and I own nothing. I also don't own Wicked either. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Wow! I never thought that this story would get such a positive response! Cookies to everyone! Why am I using so many exclamation points? This chapter is not quite as dark as the previous two, but it is still slightly dark. Also, the POV in this chapter switches back and forth between Ginny's POV and Tom's POV. This story is DH compliant, for the most part, although I deviated from it slightly, but very slightly.

**Sophia Supernova:** Thanks so much for the great review and constructive criticism! I am so glad that you are enjoying the story and the humor as much as you are! To answer your question, Ginny is twenty-years-old in this story.

So, on with show-ahem- I mean- story….

"_What is this feeling_

_So sudden and new?_

_I felt it the moment_

_I laid eyes on you…_

_My pulse is rushing…_

_My head is reeling…_

_My face is flushing…_

_What is this feeling?_

_Fervid as a flame_

_Does it have a name?_

_Yes!:_

_Loathing_

_Unadulterated loathing…_"

- Wicked, "What Is This Feeling"

**Chapter 2: Odd Ballrooms, Confrontations, and Memories**

Ginny Weasley felt like she was as light as a feather, just floating and floating in a great black void. She was strangely calm, as if all of her troubles had just melted away.

'If this is what dying feels like, it's not so bad,' she thought, reveling in the sense of calm and serenity that had washed over her.

She continued to feel calm and light, until she felt something cold, hard, and very solid underneath her, and then everything came flooding back to her in an instant. Ginny panicked and opened her eyes quickly, thinking that she would be in Malfoy Manor or some other place chained to a wall or in a cell, but her surroundings were completely different than what she had expected.

She was lying on a stone floor in a hallway, and she could hear Muggle classical music, voices, and laughter coming from down the hall. She felt extraordinarily confused. Shouldn't she be in a dungeon or something? She got to her feet, failing to notice her attire, and started to make her way down the hall, wondering why she was able to move normally without experiencing pain after the incident with Malfoy.

When she was half-way down the hall, she caught her reflection in a small mirror on the wall, and froze. Ginny was wearing a floor-length, Victorian ball gown complete with a corset. The gown was black with emerald green and silver trimming. Her straight red hair was in an artful chignon, which had a silver hair ornament set with emeralds in it, and she had a couple curled tendrils framing her face. Around her neck, there was a delicate silver necklace with an emerald in the center, and she had a matching pair of earrings in her ears. She was also wearing long black gloves that went up to her elbows.

Ginny was absolutely horrified, not that she didn't think that she didn't look beautiful, but it was too grandiose and Slytherin for her taste, and she was wondering how she got here, why she was dressed like this, and what was going on.

She realized that she probably did not have her wand because Malfoy took it. She figured that she should look for it anyway, and after a minute of patting her gown, she found it.

Ginny tried to alter the appearance of her gown to something less old-fashioned and Slytherin-like with a flourish of her wand, but it did not work. Panicking, Ginny cast '_Wingardium Leviosa_' on a bust in the corridor to make sure she could still use magic. Much to her relief, the bust lifted into the air, and she levitated it back to where it originally was. She looked back at her reflection, puzzled at the fact that she was unable to alter her outfit.

Her heart was beating a million miles a minute, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it, so she turned her gaze away from her reflection and marched to the door behind which the noises were originating from. She opened up the door, and saw that she had just walked into a massive ballroom where a masquerade ball was taking place. The women were all dressed in Victorian ball gowns, and the men were dressed in suits and tuxedos that were from around the same era. Both the men and women were wearing exotic, and sometimes frightening, masks. In one corner of the ballroom, there was a small orchestra playing the music that she had heard in the hall, and there was a huge crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling in the center of the room.

Ginny, captivated by the beauty and splendor of the room, couldn't seem to stop looking around in awe. She eventually came to her senses, and conjured a mask with a small flick of her wand. The mask was ebony with silver and green glittery swirls around the eyes and had sleek black and emerald feathers covering the edges.

'Again, it is way too Slytherin for me, but it works. Besides, it matches my ensemble perfectly. Oh well. What was that Muggle saying that Hermione said? Oh, yeah! When in Rome, do as the Roman's do,' Ginny thought, donning the mask hastily, and slipping into the crowd to figure out where she was and why she was there.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was leaning against a wall in a corner of the ballroom watching all of the couples dancing, bored out of his mind. He didn't even know why he showed up since he detested balls or dances of any kind. In fact, he didn't even remember arriving; he just remembered popping up in a ballroom.

Tom had found with blatant disgust that he was in a Muggle tuxedo from about the 1800's. He would have transfigured it into dress robes, but he wanted to blend in with the crowd so that he could question people about where he was and what exactly was going on. He had also found that he was wearing a mask (a simple, plain black one), not unlike the ones that the other men were wearing. He sighed almost inaudibly in frustration, confusion, and disgust, and joined the crowd to collect information that might be useful to him.

He found out very little, if anything at all. Everyone he spoke to seemed to think him crazy, especially when he accidentally mentioned something about spells once. In fact, the only thing that he had discovered was that he happened to be in castle or palace, but he didn't have to interrogate anyone to know that because it was obvious to anyone with even half a brain.

He was thoroughly confused, which was an extremely rare occurrence indeed for Tom Marvolo Riddle, one of the most brilliant students to walk the corridors of Hogwarts. Tom felt that he should stop leaning uselessly against a wall, people watching from a corner, and do something else more productive, so he searched the room for an exit. He only found one: the main entrance to the ballroom.

He was in the middle of the tedious process of weaving through the cornucopia of people dancing and socializing to get to his only way out, when someone bumped into him from behind. He would have fallen face-first onto the floor had he not caught himself in time. He silently thanked Merlin that he had fast reflexes. Tom whirled around, extraordinarily annoyed that someone had been oblivious and idiotic enough to walk into him.

Standing there was a pretty, young woman with coppery hair in an elaborate chignon wearing a black dress with silver and green accents ('Slytherin colors,' he noted in approval) and an ornate matching mask. Although he was pleased with her outfit, he was not quite as pleased with the young woman herself. He fixed her with an intimidating glare, which he was sure if looks could kill, she would have dropped dead on the spot. She looked apologetic and embarrassed, wringing her hands sheepishly.

'Good. At least the chit has the sense and decency to be ashamed,' he commented viciously in his mind.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention," the girl explained apologetically.

"Obviously. Watch where you are going, you imbecilic Muggle!" Tom hissed.

"What is your problem? I said I was sorry, so you don't need to be so rude. Also, why did you call me a Muggle?" the annoying chit retorted.

"Because that is what you are, Muggle," he stated with an air of arrogance, a patronizing smirk gracing his handsome features.

"Okay, you stop with the condescending tone and superior attitude anytime now, you arrogant git. I am a witch, and you are clearly a wizard since you referred to me as a Muggle," she retaliated, wiping his smirk right off his face.

"Prove it," Tom ordered, feeling skeptical that she truly was a witch.

She showed him her wand, and asked him rhetorically, "Happy now?"

"Not exactly, but it will suffice," he answered although he was well aware that it was a rhetorical question.

"So, do you know what exactly is going on?" she asked with a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

"I do not have any idea. I was really hoping you could tell me that, but you are just as clueless as I am, apparently," Tom grudgingly admitted, vexed as well.

"Well, since we seem to be the only magical beings in this whole room, we might as well work together to answer solve this mystery and find a way out. I really hate to say this, seeing as I really do not want to work with such an arrogant bigot, but it seems like the only option we have," the young woman said.

"Let's get this straight. Firstly, there is no 'we'; I operate alone, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Secondly, you are incorrect in assuming that there is only one option. You could continue whatever you were doing before you bothered me, and I could try to find a way out. So, if you don't mind, I am going to do just that, without you, of course," Tom hissed, becoming more irked by the second.

"Yes, actually. I do mind quite a bit."

"Well, that is just too bad, isn't it? I do not care if you mind or not, because your opinion does not matter to me at all, and I am going to end up doing it anyway, regardless of what you think or say," Tom spat, and stalked off without further ado.

"Hey! You can't just walk away like that," she called as she followed him.

"I believe I am, you vexing girl. Now, leave me alone before I do something that will make you rue the day you were born!" Tom hissed dangerously.

"Like what?" she challenged.

"I will '_Crucio_' you until you are begging for death, if you do not cease bothering me, and I will take great pleasure in doing so, believe you me," he responded.

'This is the most annoying and persistent chit that I have ever had the displeasure of meeting! Doesn't she ever stop?' he thought, while contemplating the delicious possibilities of torturing her.

"Who do you think you are, the bloody Dark Lord? The last time I checked, he was six-feet-under in an unmarked grave," she responded cheekily.

Despite the highly amusing and entertaining reaction she would most likely have if he told her that he was in fact Lord Voldemort, he didn't think that it was the best idea. Wait, did the girl just say that he was dead? That wasn't right, unless he really was dead.

Tom Riddle's usually pale skin turned even paler, if that were possible.

A memory had surfaced in his mind when she said this.

_Tom was in his third year at Hogwarts, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, looking down upon the Boggart imitating his own corpse on the floor of the classroom, absolutely terrified, even though he hid it well from everyone else. Professor Merrythought had intervened before Tom had had the chance to say _'Riddikulus'_, and forced the Boggart back into the drawer of the desk from whence it came._

If what she said was true, and there was no possible way it could be, his worst—and only—fear had come true: he had died or was dead.

"He is dead?" he asked the girl anxiously.

"Yeah. Do you live under a rock or something? Harry Potter killed the evil git about three or four years ago," she said.

Another memory drifted to the front of his mind, only this one was a bit more recent.

_With shock and horror, Lord Voldemort watched helplessly as the florescent green light of his own Killing Curse rushed toward him with deadly speed, signaling his own demise, and he had never been as frightened as he was right now. He knew it was all over, and the boy had defeated him. The Elder Wand had failed him._

Tom now remembered everything: the Elder Wand, Gregorovitch, Nurmengard and Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore's body in a white marble tomb, clutching the Elder Wand in his dead hands, killing Lily and James Potter, returning to his body in the graveyard, Bellatrix being killed, and his defeat. Tom also remembered after his demise, being forced to exist in an infantile form, trapped forevermore in limbo, unable to become a ghost despite his extreme fear of death.

Oddly enough, he had some memories that were his, and yet they were not. Apparently, he had a few memories that were his Horcruxes'. For example: Tom recalled everything that Ginny Weasley had written in his diary, even though he knew that he was nowhere near Hogwarts during that time.

'Damn it! Potter actually killed me! How did I get out of limbo and that pathetic body that I had been confined to? It doesn't matter right now. My plans! My beautifully constructed plans of world-domination, gone! Ruined by an incessant teenage boy and a meddlesome, foolish, old man!' he thought, extraordinarily livid.

He screamed a few choice swear words inside his head and it took all of his self-control to restrain himself from torturing and killing (assuming that they weren't dead) everyone in the room, especially the insolent redhead currently standing in front of him. What use would she be to him dead? If he killed her, he would no longer be able to interrogate her.

He turned his attention back to the young woman, so that she might reveal more, but she had disappeared. He searched the crowd for a full half hour before giving up. Tom resumed his task of finding a way out. The door that served as the main entrance to the ballroom revealed a never-ending labyrinth of corridors and stairwells, and he would have gotten completely lost had he not used the Four-Point Spell copiously.

He eventually ended up returning to the ballroom, tired of navigating the twisting hallways and long, winding staircases, and feeling thoroughly chagrinned that he hadn't found a way to escape. Tom did not understand how the young woman could have disappeared that quickly right under his own nose, when he, Lord Voldemort, had been searching for a way out for hours.

'She will pay for her insolence. Yes, she will pay, but only after she has outlived her usefulness. Nobody ever insults Lord Voldemort and gets away with it,' Tom thought to himself ominously. '_Nobody_.'

**Author's Note:** Hate it? Love it? Please review and tell me what you think. I'm sorry if this chapter really confused anyone. Instead of answering questions, I only brought new ones up. I promise the next chapter will explain a few things, including why Ginny was in a ballroom and how she ended up in there, especially with Tom of all people.

I also did a little research on various _Harry Potter_ characters via the Internet when I was really bored at school one day. When I read about Voldemort on Wikipedia, I found out a few things. Firstly, one of the main contributing factors as to why he is unable to love is that he was conceived under the influence of Amorentia. Secondly, what I said about his "afterlife" is true: he would exist in a form like what Harry saw in King's Cross, and despite his fear of death, he would be unable to become a ghost due to his use of Horcruxes. I have more, but this author's note is getting way too long. Anyway, the next chapter will be in Ginny's POV, and will try to get it up as soon as I can.


	4. Chapter 3: Interrogations: Part One

**Disclaimer:** _Harry Potter_ doesn't belong to me, even though I wish it did. I am not making a profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the long wait. Despite the positive feedback that I have received (Thanks, guys! You're great!), I haven't really been that inspired to write lately. This chapter is in Ginny's POV, and a few things will finally be explained. I forgot to mention that Tom's Boggart really would be his own corpse, or at least according to J.K. Rowling it would be. I also forgot to mention that since Ginny and Tom don't know each other's names yet, they refer to that person as "the young woman" or "the arrogant git". One more thing, Tom's age based on his outer appearance(not his actual age, mind you) is about 21 or 22.

**Sophia Supernova:** Thanks again for another review! I'm sorry that you were a little bit confused by the previous chapter. Ginny and Tom don't recognize each other due to the masks that they were wearing, but Tom seems familiar to Ginny, although she can't place him properly(as I explain in this chapter). Tom will eventually recognize her(well, sort of). As for your assumption that the ballroom incident was a lucid dream, you will just have to find out. (Grins evilly). I really hope that my explanation cleared everything up.

Okay, I'll shut up now. I present to you… the long-awaited Chapter 3!

**Chapter 3: Interrogations: Part One**

Ginny was seething. Absolutely seething with white-hot anger. Just who did that arrogant jerk think he was? Firstly, he had been anything but polite to her when she had apologized sincerely and politely to him for bumping into him. He had then called her an "imbecilic Muggle" in the most condescending tone ever, and when she told him she was a witch, he didn't believe her. Even when she showed him her wand, he was still somewhat skeptical.

Secondly, when she had presented a logical solution for their problem to him, he had dismissed it and said he operated alone. Then, he had had the audacity to walk away from her and threaten her with the Cruciatus Curse! Ugh, the nerve of some people!

Ginny had found it odd that he didn't know that Lord Voldemort was dead, and she found his reaction to be even stranger. His abnormally pale skin had turned even paler, and he was scowling, apparently deep in thought. She was staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

Ginny took in his appearance, and noticed that there was something strangely familiar about the man, but she could not put her finger on what it was. Maybe it was the way his dark, smoldering eyes flashed whenever she made a comment or a biting retort that enraged him, or the way his silky baritone seemed to wrap around her, ensnaring her senses and sending a small tingle of electricity that wasn't necessarily unpleasant shooting all the down her spine to the tips of her toes. Or maybe it was his arrogant poise and disposition, or his very Slytherin and very infuriating smirk that he displayed whenever he clearly thought that he had won their little verbal sparring match. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter to Ginny as long as she got to go home and be in Harry's warm, comforting arms again.

Ginny did not get to think on this matter anymore, however, as her vision blurred and she felt a sense of vertigo as the room seemed to tilt and swirl around her. Ginny closed her eyes against the feeling, hoping that it would just disappear. Only when the vertigo dissipated and slowly dissolved into the same floating sensation that Ginny had felt before arriving at the mysterious ball, did she open her eyes.

Ginny found that not only had the ballroom disappeared, but that she happened to be in the same peaceful void as before.

'I'm going back, or wherever "back" is,' she thought, feeling slightly relieved that she was out of the ballroom, but also afraid of what awaited her when she did return.

Ginny hoped beyond hope that Draco Malfoy or someone worse was not present when she returned.

"_Ginny. Wake up, Ginny. Please wake up_," a faint disembodied male voice pleaded to Ginny out the blue, startling her slightly, even in her relaxed state.

The voice sounded familiar to Ginny, but she couldn't determine whose voice it was and where she had heard it before in her peaceful, trance-like state. Suddenly, the calm, floating sensation had subsided, and Ginny could feel that she was now lying on a solid surface. Her limbs and digits felt slightly numb and she felt extremely weak for some unknown reason. Ginny tried to wiggle her big toe, and, much to her satisfaction, it moved slightly. She then proceeded to move her fingers, flexing them gingerly.

"Ginny?" the same voice asked, sounding both concerned and relieved.

By this time, Ginny had realized whose voice it was, and happiness and relief flooded her entire being with that single minor revelation. She answered with a small, pathetic groan, which was all she muster since her throat was scratchy and sore and her mouth felt as dry as cotton balls. Ginny slowly opened her eyes and saw Harry Potter standing over her with a concerned expression on his face.

He looked like he hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep for about a week, based on the dark circles under his eyes, and judging by the stubble on his face, he hadn't shaved in about the same amount of time either. Harry's hair stuck out in all directions, even more so than usual. Briefly, he just looked extremely disheveled.

"Oh, Ginny, we-as in your family and I-were so worried about you! We thought that you would never wake up, even though we were told that you would awaken eventually," Harry said.

Ginny opened her dry mouth to ask where she was, but the only sound that came out was a throaty rasp, and she closed it when she determined that she could not speak properly in order to not look like a fish out of water.

"Here, I'll get you a glass of water," Harry offered kindly, and promptly poured water from a silver pitcher that was on the little nightstand beside her bed into a glass that was also on the nightstand. He then tipped the glass to Ginny's lips and she drank obediently. The glass felt cool on her lips and the water even more so as she drank like a parched, malnourished child. When she had drained the glass, she felt like she might be able to speak.

"W…Where am I?" Ginny asked weakly.

"You're in St. Mungo's, and you have been here for about a week," Harry replied, setting the empty glass back on the nightstand.

"How did I get here? I mean-one minute I was in a weird ballroom-like place and the next I'm here, in St. Mungo's with you. Not to mention the fact that before the whole 'ballroom experience', I was tortured by Malfoy—" Ginny said.

"What? Malfoy? _Malfoy_ tortured you?" Harry interrupted, looking shocked and very angry.

"Yes, Harry, he did. I'm surprised that he did not kill me," Ginny said, chewing on her chapped, bottom lip, and trying not to think about if he _had_ murdered her.

"Well, he would have too, if I hadn't had an Auror trailing you to make sure that you didn't get ambushed or anything like that. Fat lot of good that did!" he snorted sarcastically.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "the Auror lost you in the crowd somehow and then later found you alone in a remote alley off of Knockturn Alley in a bloody heap with three broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a concussion, and severe internal bleeding. How could you possibly be so reckless after you promised me that you wouldn't be?"

"Believe me, Harry, I am so, so sorry that I broke the promise. I didn't break it lightly, but it was for the greater good," Ginny replied reproachfully.

"Great! Now you are starting to sound like Dumbledore when he was in cahoots with Grindelwald," Harry interrupted again.

"Will you please let me finish? Anyway, I saw Malfoy in the crowd and he was acting suspicious, so I Disillusioned myself and followed him. He turned into Knockturn Alley and didn't stop until he reached a grubby bar called The Basilisk's Fang. Malfoy then asked the barkeep where someone was because he had 'official business' with that person, and the barkeep told him. Malfoy went into the back and visited a man named Thierry. Oh, Harry, they spoke of the most dreadful things! They plan to bring Voldemort back with something called the Amulet of Akhman-Ra, and the Book of The Dead!" Ginny exclaimed.

"What? I thought it was impossible to bring back the dead," Harry exclaimed, his eyes widening in both shock and fear.

"That's what I thought, too, but apparently I was wrong. The magic has to be archaic, because no one- well, almost no one- practices necromancy, or at least thought that it was possible. Do you believe me, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"I believe you, Ginny, I really do, but there just is not enough evidence yet to go waltzing up to Malfoy Manor and confront or arrest Malfoy. I will definitely investigate the matter, and if I get the chance, wring Malfoy's neck," Harry said, earning a small smile from Ginny, who was enjoying imagining Harry choking Draco Malfoy until Malfoy's normally pale face turned purple and his eyes were bugging out of his face until they looked like they would burst.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you, but I was just worried and concerned for you," Harry apologized, gently placing a hand on Ginny's hand.

"I—," Ginny started, but at that same exact moment a Healer entered the room.

"Mister Potter, Miss Weasley needs her treatment and rest now. Would you please leave the room?" she asked Harry, her eyes flicking to Harry's forehead nervously.

"Sure," he said to the Healer and then turned back to Ginny. "I'll come back and visit you as soon as I can. I love you," Harry said and placed a kiss on her forehead and stood up.

"Okay. I love you too."

And with that, Harry Potter strode from the hospital room, gently closing the door behind him, and leaving a disappointed Ginny Weasley in his wake.

**Author's Note: **How do you like it so far? I'm sorry that the chapter is so short, especially after this long of a wait, but I really needed to update, and I liked this break. This chapter has two parts to it, and I'll try to update a little more quickly now. The good news is that Tom will be in the next chapter (sighs and drools over Tom Riddle's hotness). Okay, fan girl moment there. Ha ha! Anyway, another thanks to those who have sent me reviews; they keep me going.


	5. Chapter 4: Interrogations: Part Two

**Disclaimer:**** Is my first name Joanne and my last name Rowling? No, I don't think so. **

**Author's Note: **Okay, another chapter. I really didn't like the last one that well, but this one will be better, I promise. Also, I am a bit disappointed that no one reviewed for the last chapter. Please, please review, because I really want your input on this story.

Except for the ending, this is the last chapter that I have planned in my head. I know how I want to end it, but I have no idea how to get there, so updates might be slower than usual (if that's even possible. Ugh). Sorry that I am completely awful about posting, and it will probably get worse due to the fact that I started another fanfiction, Fading Ink, a Hermione/Tom fic. Anyway, I'll shut up now.

**Chapter 4: Interrogations: Part Two**

It had been three days since Ginny had last had the odd dream about the ballroom. Although it had seemed so real and lucid to her at the time, she was beginning to doubt its legitimacy since she had not revisited it yet.

'_Maybe it was just an odd dream, but it felt so real and so not like any normal dream that I have ever had before. Was it a dream or was it something else? No, it was just a dream; it could not have been anything else, but it was still the strangest one that I have ever had_,' Ginny had reasoned with herself in her mind on the numerous occasions that her mind had strayed to that subject.

However, despite her inner turmoil, she was healing quite well, much to the Healers' surprise; she was healing at a surprisingly swift rate for the degree of damage that she had sustained.

Ginny was lying in her hospital bed, thinking about the ballroom yet again, when her main caretaker, Healer Thompson, came into the room to perform her usual daily check-up on Ginny. Healer Thompson bent over Ginny, took out her wand, and waved it over Ginny's body for a minute or two. When the white light at the tip of her wand glowed to a forget-me-not blue, Healer Thompson straightened up and peered down into Ginny's face with a sincere smile on her plump, friendly face.

"Fortunately, you are going to be just fine. The internal bleeding has already stopped, naturally, but I had to make one-hundred percent sure that there wasn't any further damage and that there weren't any complications," Healer Thompson explained, tucking a wisp of dirty blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her right ear.

"Okay. Er… do you have any idea when I might be able to go home?" Ginny asked a little nervously.

Healer Thompson predicted, "Probably in about two or three weeks. Maybe around a month at the most, if your condition does not worsen, although I doubt that it will."

"That's good news," breathed Ginny, thinking it was going to be much longer than what the Healer had predicted.

"Well, if you need anything, all you have to do is push the call button, and I will come running," Healer Thompson said, indicating to the fire-engine red round call button on the wall beside Ginny.

"Okay, I will. Thank you," Ginny responded.

"You are very much welcome," Healer Thompson said.

With that, she left the room, once again leaving Ginny alone to her thoughts.

Later that night, Ginny was lying in the darkness that was her hospital room, waiting for sleep to claim her. For some reason, she was not able to sleep, but Lord knows she tried. She counted sheep; that didn't work. She started reviewing History of Magic material in her head; that also didn't work. She even tried to meditate, but she failed miserably at that because she was always constantly thinking of something. Now she was staring blankly at the sterile white ceiling, observing how the moonbeams coming from the window hit it, one part of the ceiling in shadow, and the other part in the moonlight.

'_Kind of like a physical analogy for darkness and light; without one the other cannot exist_," Ginny pondered.

When sleep finally claimed her, she felt familiar floating sensation, but the black void was not present; instead, there was a gray void, which seemed to swallow her up whole.

Once again, she found herself in the hallway that she had arrived in before, and with a quick glance down, she realized that she was in the same dress as before. Ginny then conjured a mask, and stomped down the hall and threw open the huge, oak, double doors with determination and frustration. She _was_ going solve this mystery one way or another.

Ginny immediately started to search for the man that she had conversed with the last time that she was here. He was as stuck here as she was, so she was seeking him out, despite her less than friendly feelings towards him. Ginny didn't have to search for him for too long or too far, for was he standing in a far-off corner of the room by himself, leaning against the wall lazily with a scowl on his face. He too was wearing the same outfit and mask as when she saw him last.

Ginny made a beeline straight towards him, her shoulders squared and her head held high. When he eventually noticed her walking over to him, his scowl deepened further.

'_I refuse to let him get under my skin again. I just simply will not allow it_,' Ginny thought with dignity.

However, when she neared him, the scowl miraculously disappeared and a small, sheepish half-smile had replaced it. Ginny was slightly suspicious, to say the least. Why would he scowl at her and then change his expression to semi-decent one? Unless… he was embarrassed by his previous actions and trying to be civil to her, but why would he do that?

"I wondered if you were ever going to show up again. I apologize for my previous behavior. I was just not in a good mood—" Ginny had trouble to keep from snorting—"but that was no excuse for taking it out on you," he admitted, turning to Ginny.

"Apology accepted," said Ginny curtly, not really being sincere.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked.

'_Oh, what the hell_,' Ginny thought. "Sure," she responded, slightly hesitant.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the area where people were dancing to the classical music. Ginny thought his touch would be warm, but it was surprisingly cold, like ice. He then proceeded to wrap an arm around her waist, and she in turn put a hand on his shoulder. Then they waltzed in time with the music.

"You are a good dancer," Ginny observed with surprise, as he whirled her around the room.

"Thank you. I taught myself," he replied, seeming to be slightly taken aback by her compliment.

"You're welcome. I'm sorry, but I don't think that I have introduced myself yet. I'm Ginny," she said.

"I'm Tom. Nice to meet you," Tom said.

"Nice to meet you, too, Tom."

After that, they danced in silence. Ginny let the music flow through her and let herself be led around the ballroom in Tom's capable arms. When the song ended a minute or two later, Tom suggested that they go sit down somewhere that was a little more private. Ginny agreed and Tom took her by the hand, and led her to a small table with a few chairs surrounding it that was stashed in a far corner.

Tom repressed his disgusted shudder as he took the chit's hand, and led her to a suitable place in which to interrogate her properly. He thought that the whole thing was going rather well, but he still despised having to act like the perfect gentleman; after all, he was Lord Voldemort, and Lord Voldemort was never nice unless he had to charm something out of someone, and this time was not any different.

'_The poor girl—what was her name—ah, Ginny—won't know what hit her when I am through with her_,' Tom thought with arrogance and barely suppressed glee.

He still couldn't believe that he had danced with her; Lord Voldemort never danced, no matter how good he might be at it. Tom remembered how Ginny had told him that he was a good dancer, and he had been genuinely surprised, for he had done little of it in his life; however, he had actually taught himself for a dance at Hogwarts many, many years ago. He had also been surprised to find that Ginny's skin had been pleasantly warm and she smelled of freesia and rain. Tom frowned, disgusted with himself for thinking that way.

"So, are we going to sit down or what?" Ginny asked with annoyance apparent in her voice, bringing Tom out of his reverie.

Tom just barely managed to hold back a scowl and scathing retort in time and said, "I apologize. I was just lost in thought."

They both sat down across from each other, and stared each other, not certain as to what they should say.

"So, tell me more about yourself," encouraged Tom, shattering the awkward silence rather abruptly.

"Ugh. Do I have to?" Ginny joked.

"No, but I do want to know more about you," Tom said earnestly.

"Well… I have five older brothers and I am the only girl in the family. I used to have six brothers, but one of them died in the Final Battle. All of us were in Gryffindor. Which House were you in?" Ginny said.

"I was in Slytherin," Tom answered honestly, hiding his abhorrence that she belonged to the house of the lions.

'_Why am I not surprised? She is the epitome of a Gryffindor_,' Tom thought.

"Were you really? I would never have thought," she teased.

"Okay," she continued, "I told you a little bit about myself. Now it's your turn."

"I was a prefect in my fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts and then I was Head Boy in my seventh year. I also was the top student in my year, and won a few awards. After graduation, I worked at Borgin and Burkes for a while," Tom acquiesced reluctantly.

Ginny wrinkled her nose and said, "How could you work in a place like that? Oh, I forgot, you are a Slytherin."

"It had its benefits," Tom replied evasively, inwardly smirking at its double meaning, and thinking of Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket.

"Have you figured out what this place is and why we are here?" Ginny asked, changing the subject.

"No, I have not."

'_It seems that she was not lying the last time. Damn, I thought she was lying for sure_,' thought Tom.

"Well, you at least can come and go as you please; I, however, cannot," he added.

"That's awful. How come?" Ginny inquired.

"How the hell do I know?" Tom snapped, momentarily forgetting his façade.

"No need to get snippy," she retorted.

"Right, sorry. Just lost my temper," Tom said.

"That's quite all right, Tom," Ginny said coolly.

Needing an excuse to temporarily get away from her and compose himself, Tom said, "I will be right back. I am going to get us some refreshments."

"Okay. I'll stay right here," Ginny said.

Tom stood and made for the refreshment table. He grabbed a couple of plates and put a few hors d'oeuvres on each of the plates. He didn't need to eat, as he was dead, but he did need an excuse to get away from her.

Tom knew that there was something familiar about Ginny, but he could not quite put his finger on it. She was uncannily like Ginevra Weasley, and even had the same saccharine, childish nickname, but Tom didn't think that that was a possibility; Tom was sure that if it was indeed Miss Ginny Weasley that he would have recognized her in a heartbeat, mask and all.

Feeling that he was adequately composed, Tom made his way back to the corner where he knew Ginny was waiting for him to return. However, when he got closer to the table and looked at it, he noticed that the mysterious girl had escaped his clutches once again.

With a scream of fury, Tom Riddle threw the plates at the wall, successfully shattering them into thousands of miniscule shards, and splattering the wall with food. Anyone who was in the vicinity stared at him, but he didn't care. He _was_ going to crack the enigma that was Ginny one way or another.

Ginny stared after Tom as he walked over to the refreshment table. She didn't know what to think of him. One minute he was unpleasant, and the next minute he was the perfect gentleman. He was quite handsome, debonair, obviously intelligent, and a great dancer. But he was also a Slytherin, and had quite a nasty temper when evoked. He also seemed like he was putting up a façade. Ginny got the feeling that he was hiding something from her, whether it was about him or his personality, she did not know.

All of a sudden, the room began to fade and she was tossed into the gray void once more. Ginny knew that she was waking up, but she didn't necessarily want to, as she was just starting to get some answers. She also had a feeling that Tom would be angry at her for breaking her promise to stay where she was, but it's not as if she could do anything about it.

Ginny opened her eyes, and she found that it was quite bright, due to the sunlight streaming through the window. '_Today is just another boring day in St. Mungo's_,' she thought, sighing and getting up to close the drapes.

**Author's Note:** Please review and tell me what you think. Again, I apologize for the long wait. I have a new story now, and that was partially responsible for the long wait, but it mostly due to my own laziness. Oh well…. I should have the next chapter up pretty soon, but I can't guarantee it.


	6. Chapter 5: Caught and Captured

**Disclaimer:**** Is my first name Joanne and my last name Rowling? No, I don't think so. **

**Author's Note: **All right! Another highly anticipated chapter! Sorry, I haven't updated in a while, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. It was mostly due to writing another fan fiction and my own laziness. I'm always late with my updates! Anyway, many thanks to those who have reviewed and added this story to their favorites or story alerts. The POV switches some in this chapter. It starts out in Harry's POV, but don't worry, it will go back to Ginny.

**Sophia Supernova: **Thank you for another one of your wonderful reviews. Yeah, Tom will eventually ("eventually" being the operative word) connect the dots, but for right now he will remain woefully (or not) ignorant. Unfortunately, this chapter doesn't have any Ginny/Tom interaction, but it is an essential chapter. Hopefully, you will enjoy this chapter just as much as you did the others.

**Chapter 5: Caught and Captured**

Malfoy Manor was a relatively quiet place during the evening, save for the occasional cries of the snow-white peacocks that inhabited the exterior of the manor. Upon first sight, no one would have ever noticed or guessed that the huge mansion was under the surveillance of none other than the famous Harry Potter. Harry, disguised by the Invisibility Cloak that he had inherited from his father, was crouched in the driveway of the Malfoys' home, waiting for Draco Malfoy to leave. Fortunately, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were on vacation in France, so Harry did not have to deal with them in addition to their son.

Harry, who had taken Ginny's words to heart, had been watching and investigating Draco Malfoy all week long. Harry was astounded to not find anything suspicious in Malfoy's file at the Ministry, and he could not find anything on a "Thierry," either, which meant that he was using an alias or he was never a Death Eater. (There were files on all of the remaining ex-Death Eaters). However, that did not necessarily mean that Harry had not discovered that Malfoy had been going to a few suspicious places like Knockturn Alley. That meant that Harry would have to dig deeper if he wanted to find sufficient evidence to arrest Malfoy, and to dig deeper, Harry would have to break into Malfoy Manor, which is what he was planning to do that night.

Harry looked at his watch impatiently, and it said that it was nine o' clock. Harry knew that every Friday night at nine Malfoy went out to have a drink at some random bar, and since it was Friday, that's exactly where Malfoy was going. He also knew that Malfoy wouldn't be back until midnight, giving him more than enough time to search the mansion. Suddenly, Malfoy stepped out the front door of his house and began to strut arrogantly down the driveway, his black cloak swirling out behind him and his trademark Malfoy hair gleaming silver in the moonlight.

Once Harry heard the distinct 'pop' of Disapparation, he began to make his way to the front door, and when he got there, he disabled the wards that were set up around Malfoy Manor one by one. Then, Harry opened the door cautiously and stepped inside the mansion. It was lavishly decorated on the inside, with a rich red carpet and dozens of portraits that represented several generations of Malfoys, their stormy gray eyes and haughty faces following Harry wherever he went in the hallway. Harry went to the last door on the right, which happened to be the sitting room, and began his search. About two hours later, Harry had searched every room except for one: the library.

When Harry pushed open the oak door that led to the library, he was amazed at the sight that greeted him. There were dozens of mahogany bookshelves, each about eight feet high, and there were several plush armchairs gathered around a spacious, ornate white marble fireplace. The floor was also made of white marble, which magnified Harry's footsteps by a tenfold, and there was an expensive-looking wooden coffee table between the armchairs and the fireplace, on which there was a stack of ancient tomes.

Harry went over to the books on the table to examine the titles. The first book on the top was _Resurrection Resurrected: The Art of Necromancy_, and the one beneath that one was titled _The Amulet of Akhman-Ra: Fact or Myth_. All of the titles seemed to have a common theme to them, and that was either raising the dead or the Amulet. Harry was both relieved and disconcerted. The relief had stemmed from the fact that he had finally found what he had been looking for after a tedious week of searching and investigating, but he was also disconcerted because that meant that everything that Ginny had said was true (not that Harry had doubted it) and that Malfoy really was trying to raise Voldemort from the dead. _Just when I thought everything was over, it really isn't_, Harry thought. Harry sighed at the thought, opened _Resurrection Resurrected: The Art of Necromancy _eagerly and began to read, his eyes drinking in the words greedily.

_The art of Necromancy is a dying art; therefore, very few wizards even know of its very existence. It is also extraordinarily difficult to become a full-fledged Necromancer, as the art and practice itself tends to be filled with complex spells and rituals that can be deadly to the caster if the caster pronounces even one syllable incorrectly. As a result, being a Necromancy master is a lucrative and dangerous position, which few wizards are able to reach and maintain since the process is potentially deadly._

_There are several ways to raise someone from the dead, but some are more effective than others. Using a human sacrifice is one of the most used methods, but not necessarily the most effective; however, using a human sacrifice in certain ceremonies enhances the power and effectiveness of the ritual. The long-lost Amulet of Akhman-Ra (which according to myth was endowed with mystical powers to bring back the dead by the Egyptian God of the Dead, Osiris, himself) was used in rituals along with a human sacrifice in ancient Egypt (the ritual also requires the Book of the Dead), and it was reputed to be the strongest ritual with which to bring back the dead._

_However, that does not mean that you can resurrect just anyone. The soul of the person who is being resurrected must be stuck in limbo. Also, the deceased must have at least one living person with blood-ties to their own blood. Blood magic is extraordinarily powerful magic and it is one of the key elements that essentially makes up the magic or craft of Necromancy. Without it, the art of raising the dead would cease to exist._

Harry couldn't bear to read anymore, as he was feeling very nauseous and he was barely suppressing the urge to vomit all over the pristine white marble floor of the Malfoys' library. His face was as white as a sheet and he had a haunted look in his eye as he remembered what Dumbledore had told him in King's Cross. Harry had only survived Voldemort's Killing Curse that one time because Voldemort had taken his blood to create his second body, and since Voldemort had died in that body, the body with Harry's blood in it, what happened to Harry could happen to Voldemort, as well. Also, because Voldemort had made Horcruxes, he would be forever stuck in limbo since his soul, what little was left of it, was too tarnished and torn to cross over. Harry had always had the sneaking suspicion that Voldemort was forced to exist in the pitiful form that he had seen in King's Cross, when he thought about it, which he rarely did. Harry already knew that Malfoy was trying to resurrect Voldemort, so that was not the thing that was making him queasy; it was the fact that just by being alive he made it possible for his arch-nemesis to rise again.

"Doing a little research, Potter," drawled a voice from the shadows that Harry recognized immediately.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Harry asked in a hostile manner, slamming _Resurrection Resurrected_ with a 'thud' that echoed throughout the library.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows and said, "I should be the one asking you that question since this is my house."

"I mean, what are doing home so early?" Harry corrected himself.

"Why, Potter, I didn't know that you cared so much about my well-being," Malfoy mocked. "Should I be concerned now that you are turning into my mother? Anyway, it's none of your business why I came home early."

While Malfoy was talking, Harry was trying to get his wand to slide out of his sleeve and into his hand discreetly. "So you're going to resurrect Voldemort, huh?" Harry questioned Malfoy, just to keep him talking.

Malfoy flinched visibly at the word 'Voldemort' and scoffed, "Like Weaslette didn't already tell you, but, yes, that is the plan. And don't say his name, Scarhead!"

"What, Voldemort? Didn't you listen to Ginny back in second year when she said that 'fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself'?" Harry taunted, and by this time he had managed to get his wand in his hand without Malfoy noticing.

"Oh, shut up. You won't be so cocky when the Dark Lord comes after you after he has risen again," threatened Malfoy.

"You will not get away with this, Malfoy. I won't let you," Harry declared.

"Funny. That's almost exactly what your girlfriend said before I tortured her," divulged Malfoy. Malfoy moved to remove his wand from his robes, and Harry knew it was time to act.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at an unsuspecting Draco Malfoy, but he miraculously managed to dodge the hex.

"Reducto!" Malfoy retaliated, and Harry had to quickly cast a Shield Charm.

"Diffindo!" Harry cast, and Malfoy snarled as it hit him, making a huge gash on his cheek.

"Ha! Not so tough now, are you, Malfoy?" Harry taunted, and he laughed mockingly as he ducked and weaved through Malfoy's hexes and curses. But that, Harry found, was a huge error on his part, for when Malfoy cast his next spell (Incarcerous) he was too distracted to put up a Shield Charm in time.

Draco stood triumphantly over Potter, who was bound by several thick ropes, with his wand pointed at Harry Potter's chest. "You were saying, Potter?" Draco gloated as he started to struggle helplessly. Draco then knocked Harry's wand out of his hand before he could get any more ideas.

"How does it feel to be at my mercy?" Draco asked.

"How do you think it feels?" Harry said, apparently evading Draco's question with a question of his own.

Draco ignored the rhetorical question and said, "Stupefy!"

The red jet of light hit Harry Potter and he was still. Draco went over to Harry, and pulled on a hank of his hair. He then procured a small vial from inside of his robes and put Harry's hair into it. 'Ugh! I'm definitely going to have to wash my hands of Saint Potter's filth when I am finished,' Draco thought cynically.

Next, Draco muttered "Mobilicorpus" under his breath, and proceeded to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor with Harry's motionless body floating eerily in front of him. On his way to the dungeons, Draco thought about how after he had Apparated away from Malfoy Manor he had felt like something just was not right. The feeling had persisted, so Draco had gone home early. Apparently, the strange feeling had been correct, for when he returned, the wards that are constantly around the manor were mysteriously missing. Draco had opened and closed the front door carefully and quietly, and muttered "Homenum Revelio" under his breath. The spell had revealed that someone was in the library upstairs. Draco found a secret passage (one of many at Malfoy Manor) that led directly into the library so as not to alert the person to his presence. Much to his surprise, he had found Harry Potter reading from a book he knew well when he had arrived in the library. Draco had watched Potter read for a minute or two, and when he had stopped reading, much to his satisfaction, Potter had looked a little green around the gills and was as white as a sheet. Then, Draco had decided to make his presence known, and the rest was history.

Draco didn't notice that he was standing at the door to the dungeons for one whole minute, and then he snapped out of his reverie. He levitated Harry into one of the cells and shackled him to the wall. Then, he walked out of the dungeons and went to go check on the Polyjuice Potion that he was brewing. 'Soon,' he told himself. Soon his plan was going to take effect, and no one, not even the famous Harry Potter could stop him.

Ginny sat in her hospital bed impatiently. The Healers told her that she could leave any day now, but that was all that they would reveal. It was all very frustrating to Ginny, who couldn't wait to get out of St. Mungo's, but it wasn't like she could force the Healers to sign the release papers. On top of the frustration, the fact that Harry hadn't visited her for about a week was causing her to worry. That was so unlike Harry; he would have visited her even in the busiest of times.

All of a sudden, the door opened and the subject of her thoughts came into her room. "Where were you? Why didn't you visit me?" Ginny asked abruptly, narrowing her eyes into her best death-glare.

"I apologize, Gin. I was so busy with both work and investigating Malfoy that I simply didn't have the time to visit you, even though I really, really wanted to," Harry said.

"Well, that never stopped you before, so why now?" snapped Ginny.

"Please believe me, Ginny. It's not like I did not want to come, because I very much did want to, but I was unbelievably swamped," pleaded Harry.

"You had me really worried. I didn't know if something had happened to you, and since you haven't visited for, oh, about a week how was I supposed to know if you were all right or not?" complained Ginny.

"You were worried, which is understandable, and for that I am sorry. Will you please forgive me?" Harry asked as he walked over to Ginny's bed and took her hand in his own.

It was silent for a moment as Ginny debated in her head whether or not to forgive Harry, and then she sighed, "Fine. Apology accepted."

Harry gave her hand a squeeze said, "Well, I have some good news that is bound to cheer you up. The Healers have finally decided that you are well enough to leave, and I am here to spring you."

"Really? Let's get out of here, then," Ginny said eagerly. She got out the bed, stretched for a minute, and left the room that had been her prison for the last couple of weeks with Harry in tow. They walked out of St. Mungo's holding hands, and Ginny reveled in the sunshine that kissed her face, real sunshine that did not come from the magical artificial windows in St. Mungo's.

"Are you strong enough to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I think so, but I don't want to risk Splinching myself if I can't Apparate properly. Personally, I think that I have spent enough time in St. Mungo's to last a lifetime," Ginny replied.

"Okay, Side-Along it is," Harry said, and he stuck out an arm. Ginny took his proffered arm and then she felt the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a tube, so she closed her eyes until the feeling had dissipated. When she opened her eyes, she immediately knew that she was not in the flat that she shared with Harry. Instead, she was standing in front of a massive mansion that she had never seen before.

"Harry, what the—? Why did you bring us here?" Ginny asked, confused. Suddenly Harry's demeanor changed, and he had a very Slytherin-like smirk on his face, and to Ginny it was disconcerting, to say the least.

"I would have thought that that would be painfully obvious, Weaslette," he drawled arrogantly.

Harry had never called her 'Weaslette', so it must be—"Malfoy? You… you… ugh! I can't think of a bad enough word to describe you right now! I swear am going to…," Ginny screamed, completely outraged, and her red hair flying all over the place with the vehemence with which she spoke.

"You'll do what? Stutter at me? And before you get any more ideas, I took your wand when you weren't paying attention, so you are quite defenseless," Malfoy declared.

Ginny silently agreed that he was correct: She was defenseless. But then an idea popped into her head. Who said that wizards and witches had to use wands to defend themselves? "Not necessarily," Ginny growled, and before he could react to her statement, she aimed a good hard kick at his groin. It would have worked, except that Malfoy had grabbed her foot before it hit him and started to twist her ankle with a cruel smirk on his face.

Ginny cried out in pain as she both felt and heard something pop, and she was sure that her ankle was broken. Malfoy released her foot and let her drop to the ground. Ginny stared up at him through her watering eyes and watched him pull his wand out and point it at her.

"Imperio," he hissed. Ginny felt like all of her worries had just drifted away, and she could not even feel the pain in her ankle. It was sheer bliss.

'Get up and walk towards Malfoy Manor', a voice said in her head.

Ginny felt inclined to acquiesce that order, but another voice in the back of her mind protested, 'Why should I? That's a stupid thing to do, really.'

'Do it! Do it now!'

'I won't.'

'**Do it**!' the voice ordered more insistently.

'_No!'_

'**DO IT**!'

"NO!" Ginny screamed aloud. At once, the feeling of peacefulness vanished and was replaced with anxiety and the pain from her broken ankle.

"No? We'll just see about that. You are initially stronger than I thought, so I cannot place the Imperius Curse on you again. No matter…," said Malfoy. At once, he placed Ginny in a Full-Body Bind, and once again muttered "Mobilicorpus," and walked into Malfoy Manor with Ginny floating along in front of him.

Ginny was screaming a million curses at Malfoy in her head, and she sorely wished that she could say them out loud. She realized with a sinking feeling of dread that whatever Malfoy was going to do to her was definitely not going to be pleasant as Malfoy led her to the dungeons.

When they had arrived, Ginny was thinking, 'The dungeons? Typical.' Malfoy led her to the first cell on the right, and if she were capable of it, she would have gasped at what she saw.

**Author's Note:** Please review. Okay, I am an evil author for leaving you with such a cliffy, but I think that the length of this chapter makes up for it. Sorry about the lack of Tom/Ginny interaction.


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